


The Mark of a Bullet

by TransformersG1fan271



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: I am almost to their DLC, I love them so much, M/M, Soulmates, i love them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:42:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25585357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransformersG1fan271/pseuds/TransformersG1fan271
Summary: Sir Alistair Hammerlock had not expected much coming to Eden-6, and he couldn't have been more wrong.
Relationships: Sir Hammerlock/Wainwright Jakobs
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	The Mark of a Bullet

Alistair Hammerlock enjoyed a challenge, of course, he did. Leaving his namesake, which had not been as hard as one would have assumed, freed him of some terrible shackles. The world and its infinite treasures and adventures were his for the taking, and Alistair couldn’t be happier. His renown in the hunting community exploded in such a short time, and within 10 years Hammerlock became synonymous with Alistair and his hunting. Pandora became his home after some time, Alistair happy to study and track until the war came. He was never one for shooting people and dissidents, but hunting fell to the background as he helped the small band of people try and defend their home from Handsome Jack. After the liberation of Pandora, Alistair moved on as he always did, and found himself on Eden-6. For most people, paradise did not involve swamp creatures and other horrors, but for Alistair, it was absolutely perfect. He was settled in a small town for close to a month when the head of Jakob’s corporation invited him for a hunting trip. Never one to turn down a hunt, nor the rather delicious free food and exquisite ammunition, Alistair took the invite.

Where he came for Montgomery Jakobs, Alistair instead finds himself falling for Wainwright Jakobs. 

He arrived two days into the hunt, startling Alistair and receiving a bullet to his shoulder. It wasn’t the greatest of meetings, the two bickering as Alistair expertly tends to the wound in record time.

_ “Do you go ‘round shootin’ every person ta come near you?” _ Wainwright snarled, watching the hunter roll his eyes as he pulls out the bullet.

_ “Do you find it acceptable to come around and brazenly confront a hunter amid the hunt?” _ Wainwright spluttered at the accusation, ears turning red as his father and associates laughed in the background. 

_ “Here I thought big game hunters knew everythin’ about their surroundings.”  _ It was now Hammerlock’s turn to shoot a look, pulling back to burn the now bloodied bandages.

_ “I was not aware I had to also lookout for a surprise newcomer, mister?” _

_ “Wainwright Jakobs.”  _ Alistair cocked his head slightly, unaware the heir to Jakobs corporation was even aware of the hunting expedition.  _ “You must be the famous Sir Hammerlock then, hmpf.” _

_ “Indeed I am.”  _ Despite the huff, Alistair was more amused now than irritated, offering a hand to the other.  _ “Do you often hunt with a shotgun?”  _

_ “I don’t hunt at all.”  _ Wainwright winced as he carefully stretched out his arm, the injury only letting him about halfway.  _ “I am far more comfortable with a good book by a fire, rather than out in the mud and grog intestines. I am here by request of my father, who is under the impression this is all for business.” _

_ “Oh, dear.”  _ Wainwright raises an eyebrow at the tone, but the hunter says nothing, merely escorting Wainwright to their makeshift camp. The hunt goes on for three days, Alistair hiding back growing irritation as the head of Jakobs and his business partners operated with reckless abandon. The hunter had heard rumors of avoiding any invitation by the CEO, and now he fully understood. The only saving grace was Wainwright, much to Alistair’s surprise.

Despite not enjoying the heat and swamp, Wainwright was learning tricks of the trade rather quickly. Sure, his aim was nonexistent and his brash footing was leaving a lot to be desired, but for the most part, Wainwright was a fast learner. They were up late each night, speaking about music, philosophies, books, any and every topic they could think of. The two end up staying an extra day, Montgomery bidding a hasty farewell after realizing that Hammerlock had no part with his parents’ company, and therefore was effectively not worth his time. Wainwright seemed to almost transform the moment his fathers’ vehicle was out of sight, shoulder’s loosening as he cracks open some brandy. 

Hammerlock returns to his humble lodge after bidding Wainwright goodbye and finds his research was rather...lonley without the company. Alistar had never been one to seek out company for his work before, but those short days with Wainwright had been rather lovely. Taking a week-long expedition, that most certainly wasn’t extended because he got slightly lost, Hammerlock is glad to see his abode and pauses when he notices the door is ajar. Readying his pistol, Alistair slowly opens the door and points his gun at the figure standing in the living room. 

_ “Are we going to meet with your gun always between us?” _ Wainwright sounds amused, but Hammerlock can tell he is nervous after hearing his pistol click.

_ “Perhaps that would end if you approached me in my sight.” _ The pistol is holstered, and Wainwright turns with a slightly bashful look. 

_ “Fair point, fair point.”  _ There is a freshly cooked meal on the table, and Alistair can’t help but be grateful at such a sight.  _ “I heard you would be returnin’ soon, and as such thought ta offer a good meal.” _

_ “How very kind of you.”  _ Alistair doesn’t mind the small amount of grime he sullies the couch with, knowing there will always be later to clean. They both slip into a conversation as if they had never parted ways, the late hour slowly turning to early morning as they continued. It should be silly, men in their late forties and early fifties respectively laughing and regaling each other with stories like teenagers. A night turns into a week, Wainwright taking Alistar around for an in-depth tour of Eden-6. It’s late one night when gazing up at the myriad of stars on the roof of Hammerlock’s cabin, that Jakobs leans over and captures the hunter’s lips in a kiss. For just a moment, Alistair freezes at the contact but is soon moving his flesh and bone hand to caress the side of Wainwright’s jaw. They eventually part and Alistair suddenly thinks that coming to Eden-6 had been his wisest choice throughout his career.

It only hits him a few days later, bidding Wainwright a goodbye after escorting him home, what that feeling of utter peace meant. When Alistair arrives at his own abode, his shirt is quickly yet efficiently removed. Just above his left nipple, a patch of skin that had always been barren was finally alight with a symbol. The design, still in the process of solidifying with dark hues of reds, greens, and blacks, appeared to be forming the most ornate shotgun Alistair had ever seen, crossed over his own infamous sniper rifle.

Coincidentally, it looked suspiciously like the personal gun of one Wainwright Jakobs.

Some grogs were momentarily stirred from their slumber by a loud bout of elated laughter. 

The symbol solidifies the day before Wainwright offers Hammerlock a permanent place in his own estate. The hunter moves in with no hesitation, the housekeeping staff clustering around the study door that evening. They can see Hammerlock shedding his shirt, saying something and pointing to himself before Wainwright lets out a loud bout of laughter. The symbol on Alistair had now grown to fill the entire upper left side of his chest, Wainwright reaching out and touching it with an expression neither of the staff had ever seen before.

It was pure adoration.

Hammerlock says something to other man, who gives a shrug before shedding his own coat and shirt. It was clear he was slightly shy, a bit soft around the middle from his simple gunsmith work, whereas Hammerlock was built and toned from his occupation. The hunter seems not to mind at all, eyes drawn to Wainwright’s back when he turns around. Alistair’s prized journal, one that only Wainwright had been blessed to see, was seemingly tattooed onto his back. Astonishingly the pictures displayed moved, flickering both from what he had drawn over the years, to images of Eden-6. It was rare for one’s soulmate mark to be so vivid, and even rarer to change its shape at will, or in this case, it’s pages and images. The eldest staffer finally shoos everyone away when Alistair kneels down, spindly fingers tracing over Wainwright’s mark as if he was touching gold. 

_ “This is just astonishing.” _ Hammerlock can’t help but breathe, the roll of his breath across Wainwright’s back making the shorter man shiver.

_ “So you’ve said near hundred times I reckon.” _ Despite feeling a bit inadequate at the moment, the Edenian can’t help but feel his heart flutter. Catching sight of his own mark in the mirror just a day ago had sent a feeling of...peace when he realized just what it was. He had nearly scared some of the staff running to and fro, ordering various rooms to be prepared as if for many guests. Thoughts of personal space and potential unwant had faded the moment Hammerlock had arrived. The hunter and the gunsmith had shared a look that felt like it had lasted years, the world just settling in a way that had never been before.

It felt like they had finally found steady ground, and had taken to privacy almost immediately. 

Alistair and Wainwright end up sitting on his bed, the gunsmith on his stomach as Alistair touches and kisses what seemed every inch of his mark.

_ “A gentleman might get a might jealous of attention like that.”  _ He chuckles, and Alistair sits up with his own amused look.

_ “Well, I suppose I shall have to rectify this posthaste, shall I not?”  _ Wainwright all but blinks, and Alistair has settled beside him as if they had done this a thousand times.

_ “I suppose you should.”  _ Wainwright sits up slightly when he notices Hammerlock shift, clearly becoming uncomfortable in his prosthetics.  _ “Do you need some assistance ?” _

_ “I can manage a few hours longer.”  _ Alistair shrugs, finding the slight frown that crosses his partners’ face almost adoring. Mhm, calling him partner so soon? Hammerlock knew that soulmate bonds could be potent, but never before had he ever thought of such a thing happening to himself. He would have laughed, shaking from his thoughts when he feels his prosthetic arm be worked free with its’ quiet pop.  _ “Winny, a heads up if you don’t mind!” _

_ “Winny?”  _ Alistair can’t help the faint blush that flares up, the nickname having slipped without a thought.

_ “I...you see.”  _ Any excuses that he could have come up with fade when the other starts shaking, clearly holding back some laughter.

_ “Ain’t never had a nickname before...I like it.” _ This man and his endless enthusiasm for all things, were most definitely going to be the end of Alistair, absolutely. 

_ “Yes, Wainwright is a fair mouthful, and I find that Winny, well it suits you, my dear.”  _ Wainwright is now the one blushing, Alistair removing his leg prosthesis with practiced ease, setting both it and the arm on the bedside table. Hammerlock barely sits back before he is swept up into Wainwright’s arms. They shuffle a little bit, and soon Hammerlock has his head tucked into the crook of Wainwright’s neck, rather appreciating how soft the other was against his scrawny back. He feels soft and slightly calloused hands brushing along the designs of his mark, hearing a soft chuckle as Wainwright traces his own gun. The hunter doesn’t even feel himself falling asleep, having never felt so unguarded and safe to do so. It’s the first time in years he sleeps without nightmares or pain and knew that hopefully, this would be the beginning of something wonderful.


End file.
